


i saw there would be no peace in here tonight

by ninzied



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:02:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23736562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninzied/pseuds/ninzied
Summary: The nightmares are a part of him now.He’ll never get used to them – to the spine-wrenching shock of waking from them like his very soul has just been gutted beyond all recognition. But Frank has come to accept that they’re never going away, and he will live with them, and he will one day die with them, too.All of that changes, the first time he takes Karen to bed.
Relationships: Frank Castle/Karen Page
Comments: 18
Kudos: 128





	i saw there would be no peace in here tonight

**Author's Note:**

> **euneirophrenia (n);** the peace of mind that comes from having pleasant dreams

The nightmares are a part of him now.

He’ll never get used to them – to the spine-wrenching shock of waking from them like his very soul has just been gutted beyond all recognition. But Frank has come to accept that they’re never going away, and he will live with them, and he will one day die with them, too.

All of that changes, the first time he takes Karen to bed.

…

She is – everything.

She is fierce, and good, and unforgiving, and when he shows up at her door for what he thinks is going to be the last time, all it takes is one look from her for Frank to realize just how wrong he was.

Everything he owns, he’s thrown into a well-worn duffel, and there’s a car in a lot that Curt had left him with the key wedged into the groove of a tire. It’s going to be days before Frank remembers to let Curt know he won’t be needing that car anymore.

His duffel bag will have long since been unpacked by then.

His books, the photo of Maria and the kids, will be propped up on one of the shelves, and half his clothes tossed because that rusted smell of old blood doesn’t belong anywhere near Karen’s apartment. His gun will find a spot in the nightstand, and he’ll snort out a laugh when she stores his Ka-Bar with all her utensils. The duffel itself is going to get shoved into some corner of her closet, forgotten.

There’s one thing that wouldn’t have fit in there, and that’s a life – that’s a future – with Karen.

A part of him knows that if he had any real intention of leaving, he wouldn’t have come here. He wouldn’t have risked having to hurt her again just so he can do the selfish thing and see her one last time. He knows what she was offering him, that day in the hospital. And he knows what it cost him to turn her away.

So when Karen opens the door, and it’s clear from the look on her face that she knows he’s there to say goodbye—

Frank opens his mouth, and asks her if she’ll still have him.

…

She invites him to stay for dinner.

He offers to cook, but there’s next to nothing in her fridge when he checks, so they end up ordering take-out instead. The conversation flows easily over Thai food and wine, but there’s a tentativeness between them that’s never been there before. Every once in a while, he catches her looking away just to smile, and the inside of his chest feels like it might expand to the point of breaking.

It’s as close to a date as anything they’ll ever get to, this shy kind of softness, in a way that makes him wish he could just reach over and touch her. But he doesn’t want this to end either – the ache of this moment, where the want of it alone is almost too exquisite to bear.

It’s late into the evening by the time they think to clear the dishes away. Frank is working his way up to asking her when he can see her again – which also begs the question of where he’s going to stay until then. He’s essentially homeless, and he doesn’t want to assume anything – he could always crash over at Curt’s, at least until he—

Her face is closer than he’d realized, as she moves around him to put a dish on the rack to dry. There’s a soap bubble stuck to her hair, and he thumbs it away without thinking. His hand lingers there, as she looks up at him.

He doesn’t know who is the first to lean in.

…

It will probably embarrass him later, how desperate he is to just – kiss her, and then keep on kissing her, at first. They make out by that kitchen sink for what could have been hours, and it feels a bit like being a teenager again, like stealing a kiss from his crush by the bleachers while trying to be careful about where he’s putting his hands.

Karen, it turns out, is not so concerned as he is.

At her gentle insistence, they eventually stumble their way over to the couch, and here too Frank will look back later and cringe.

He means to take his time. He wants to savor every first that they have – the first time that he sees her bare, the first time she kisses the scars on his skin, the first time his breathing bottoms out as he sinks his dick into her – but it’s over too painfully soon, as he feels his orgasm shudder through him before she’s had a chance to finish.

_’S’been a while_ , he grimaces by way of apology, and even though she tells him she doesn’t mind, he vows to make it up to her anyway. He splays her out on the couch, hooks those long legs of hers over his shoulders, and goes down on her in earnest.

He’s hard as nails again, after he’s had her come at least twice, and this time – this time, he’s more than ready to make it count.

They don’t make it to her bed until much later.

…

The middle of the night finds him reaching for her again.

He doesn’t mean to wake her, but she stirs when his knuckles brush over her side, and she turns into him, notching her forehead beneath his chin.

_Can’t sleep?_ she murmurs. He feels her words against his throat, and the kiss that soon follows, soft and warm to the skin just under his jawline.

He doesn’t know how to tell her that this is the most restful he’s felt in a long, long time – with her in his arms, and the memory of their lovemaking still so very alive in every light touch of her skin, or the slightest graze of her body against his.

And he doesn’t know how to tell her that this – all of it – is going to be gone the moment he falls asleep. That his dreams take him to a place where his love for Karen cannot follow, and he’s terrified that when he wakes up, and looks for Maria with Karen lying beside him, it will be something that he won’t know how to forgive himself for.

But he wonders if Karen doesn’t understand all this anyway, even while he’s still figuring out how to say it.

She nudges closer, and he gathers her up against him, making a low sound in his throat as she trails her mouth up the side of his neck.

_It’s okay, Frank_ , she says. He’s already half-gone with desire, and he will believe anything she tells him right now. _It’s okay._

She rides him this time, her skin a pale glow in the moonlight. His hands are all over her – silk strands of her hair getting caught in his fingers, her breasts soft and full in his palms – and then he’s gripping her hips, pumping in and out of her as she leans over him. Her mouth finds his, tongues tangling, and he kisses her hard as they both gasp for release.

They hold each other, after. Karen has his head cradled close, the side of his face pressed into the crook of her shoulder. His arm’s slung over the front of her body, thumb stroking slow circles to the inside of her elbow. He burrows further into her with a soft groaning sound as her nails scrape lightly over the back of his scalp.

Her lips graze his forehead, and it’s the last thing he remembers before falling into a deep and dreamless sleep.

…

Frank blinks out the sun in his eyes.

It’s been a long while since he slept in this late, and he marvels at that for a moment, letting the rest of his body take its time catching up. He’s pleasantly sore all over, and there’s a crick in his spine that pops satisfyingly as he stretches. Last night – Christ, last night was…

He turns in the bed. “Hey,” he rasps, and reaches for Karen.

His hand finds the sheets, but they’re cool to the touch, and there’s something else about them that’s – off. That feels too familiar, somehow.

He freezes in place, staring at the empty space beside him. At the single, plain pillow wedged under his arm as he props himself up and puts his other hand out, grasping blindly at the thin comforter.

He doesn’t understand it, for a moment. And then a cold, horrible sensation is filling up his insides, until it’s enough for him to choke on.

He’s in his own bed.

He’s in his own bed, and last night with Karen had all just been a goddamn dream.

…

It’s a different kind of low that his subconscious has stooped to.

Frank spends the morning with his head full of a weird kind of static, like it’s seconds away from short-circuiting if just the wrong thought crosses into its path.

He tries not to think about it. Karen, right there, in his arms – and then not. But every stray thought finds it way back to her, and it’s pointless, now, to resist any longer.

He doesn’t need a psychologist to tell him what that dream was supposed to mean.

He knows.

He knows.

The only question he can’t bring himself to answer right now is what he’s going to do about it.

He drinks his coffee without tasting it, and drives to work as if on autopilot. It’s his day off, but the other guys aren’t unhappy to see him – he’s efficient, and doesn’t take many breaks. Still, they give him a wide berth as he picks up the sledgehammer, seeming to sense that he’s not just here to knock some bricks over.

It’s exactly the kind of anonymous, mind-numbing work that had drawn Frank to it in the first place. But waking up from that dream had left him in such a deep state of unrest that no matter how hard he swings, he can’t seem to shake himself out of it.

Maybe it’s time.

The thought comes unbidden, and Frank pauses mid-swing, reeling a little as he sets the sledgehammer down.

Maybe this was his body’s own way of telling him. That it’s not all going to be nightmares, waking up in a wild-eyed sweat and searching for someone he’s already lost. That there’s something else – something more – and maybe it’s okay to believe it.

_You cannot keep loving people in your dreams._

And just as surely as he’d known, those years ago, when it was time to come home from deployment – come home to Maria, the kids – Frank knows now. He’s ready. He’s ready, for an after, with Karen.

The ache settles like something permanent into muscle and bone, and it hurts, Christ does it hurt, but he thinks – he thinks that maybe this is what hope is supposed to feel like.

If anything, at least he can know what it’s like to have that again.

…

He showers after work, and tries to make himself look halfway decent before heading out.

He keeps waiting to get hit by some urge to turn back, but then he’s standing in front of Karen’s place, and the only thing he feels is that there’s no other place he’d rather be.

He comes close to pinching himself once or twice, just to make sure he’s not dreaming again. But he’s here – he’s here, and he’s going to tell her he’s here to stay, if she’ll have him.

She answers on the second knock.

He registers the shock in her eyes at seeing him there. Shock, and confusion, and maybe a flash of anger before something else is winning out, her gaze going soft at the edges. The rest of her face is unreadable, but those blue eyes have never lied to him.

She’s always been more than he ever deserved.

He clears his throat and says, “Hey. Karen.”

She draws in a breath. It sounds as shaky as he feels. “Frank,” she says, then, “You…brought take-out?”

He raises the bag somewhat self-consciously. “I, uh – just had this feeling you might not keep a lot of food around.”

“Not sure what gave you that impression,” she says, but she’s smiling, a little.

Frank nods. He owes her more of an explanation than that, why he’s suddenly here and wanting some place in her life. “Listen, I—”

“Come in,” she says.

He knits his brow. Somehow, he’d been expecting more resistance from her. “Yeah?”

Karen takes the bag from him. He doesn’t relinquish his hold right away, letting her tug him across the threshold with it. “Who am I to turn down free food?” she asks, and there’s definitely a smile there now as he follows her the rest of the way inside.

“Like what you’ve done with the place.”

She looks over her shoulder at him, brow arched. “You mean compared to the last time you were here? When you stayed for about three and a half seconds?”

Frank grimaces at her. “Okay. I deserved that. For a lot of reasons.” He walks over to the kitchen with her. “Was kind of hoping to stick around a little longer this time.”

She hands him the food, eyes warm. “Good thing you won’t starve.”

He sets everything down as she grabs some drinks from the fridge. If she turns and finds him staring a little too hard at her kitchen counter, which had featured so prominently in last night’s dream, she doesn’t comment on it, apart from offering him one of the beers.

She glances sideways at him, expression soft. “Does this mean you’re going to drink more than two sips of that this time?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He bites his lip, crooks a smile at her.

They both reach for the bag at the same time. The backs of their hands brush together, and she doesn’t pull away when he gently touches a finger to hers, letting it linger there as he turns.

They’re standing closer together than either of them realized. As he moves into her, he feels the hitch in her breath, and the look that she gives him is all the invitation he needs before cupping a hand to her cheek and easing his mouth over hers.

…

The food never makes it to the table. And they still take their time before winding up in her bed for the night, kissing, and talking. Kissing some more, amongst other things.

They eat their pad Thai around two in the morning, but Frank keeps dropping small bites of noodle every time the bed sheets slide a little too revealingly down Karen’s body. It earns him a light scolding, and so he resolves to eat her out instead, to much more satisfying results.

He tells her, later, that he’d dreamt about this. About them.

She’s quiet for some time, processing.

Finally, she says to him wryly, “Guess a Ka-Bar would’ve been overkill, for Thai food.”

He noses a kiss to her forehead, then confesses in a low tone, “Got a bag packed and ready at my place, if you…you know.” The words stick a little on their way out, but it feels right, to say them.

Karen looks up at him. “I think we could make that work,” she says.

…

Frank doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he wakes to the sensation of hair tickling its way up his chest to his neck. He tightens his arms around Karen on instinct, making her laugh, and then he’s hauling her up against his body as he opens his eyes. He squints into a stream of sunlight that makes the air around her glow, and she smiles, and leans down to kiss him good morning.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on [tumblr!](http://ninzied.tumblr.com)
> 
> fic title taken from "i had a dream" by aurora.


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